Painting without Color
by I'm Defective
Summary: He was looking without trying to look like he was. I would know, I do it all the time. Lavi/Allen


Disclaimer: I don't own D. Gray man, or any of it's characters. Enjoy!

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It was precisely 2:07am in Munich, Germany. The moon hung heavy and low in the sky. I was busy watching your eyelids flutter violently in your sleep. I wish that I could've been so lucky. Gramps had me on a weird sleeping schedule since I was eight. I often stayed awake for three full days before crashing on the fourth. I shook my head, clearing my thoughts of the old panda-faced geezer.

The wind blew in gently from the window, as the moonlight filtered through our linen curtains. I held my breath as it bathed you in it's blue hues. You were an impressionistic painting; the light and dark shades were dappled from the leaves on the tree outside. For a second, I was jealous of the gnarled shadow as it caressed your brow. I turned my one eye forlornly to the window.

Even this moment was to be forgotten by time. Together, we would become legends; sold and exploited by the very humans we've fought to save. There wasn't anything that I wanted more than to be able to write about you. For once in my life, I just wanted to write about something beautiful. I was sick of the horror called humanity; human conflict, human idiocy, human nature. The old man was sure to scar me beyond repair. I buried my heart in the furthest recesses of my psyche, and left it there to collect dust. I had my emotions in a stone cold grip, locked up tight, and virtually non-existent to me.

That was until I reached the Rewinding Town.

The first time I met you, you were just another broken body strewn across a hospital bed. To be honest, you were nothing short of a bloody mess. I heard Komui speaking to me somewhere along the line. My head felt like it was being held underwater. Komui was relaying the previous events concerning the Noah clan. As Bookman's successor, I should have been listening attentively. I barely even heard him. His voice was filed away in my brain, to be recorded later. As the doctors rushed in, it felt like time slowed down. All I could hear were your heavy breaths, as you drenched the sheets with blood. That's when I saw it.

Your eye.

My hand flew up to touch my patch. Your eye was a gaping hole, to say the least. Grotesque bits and pieces hung on in their futile attempt to protect your brain. The room started to lurch forward, as an excruciating pain shot through my left eye. Spinning on my heel, I fled the room.

Down the hallway, I found a trash can to dispose of my stomach's contents. Regaining some of my composure, I loosened the orange scarf around my neck. For some reason, that scene really got to me. I'd seen every imaginable abomination that could ever be done by human hands. This was different; this Noah clan couldn't possibly be human.

I spent three nights straight pacing outside of your door. The old panda would give me a few hard glares, but no word of disapproval. Three times a day Komui and Gramps would go to Leeenalee's room for her therapy. During those times I would open the door, and sweep in silently. The room was always starkly sanitized, contrary to Leenalee's. There, I would sit on a stool next to your bed and read to you.

There was this one time when you lightly touched my arm in your sleep. You puffed out your cheeks and sighed for me not to go. I was frozen to the spot. I waited until I was sure that you were asleep before pulling my bandanna over my eyes in embarrassment. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I filed away the sound of your voice.

When you finally awoke, I was casually standing in your door frame. I introduced myself, relayed some information, and even offered some comedy relief; thanks to the panda. You offered me a greeting, and a soft smile. I grinned back, even though I could still hear how you labored over each breath. Komui began filling you in on the previous events. Even though he quietly commanded your attention, I could see you trying to glance out of the corner of your eye at me. You were trying to study me without looking like you were. I would know, I do it all the time.

Gramps had a look at your eye later. It was a bit swollen around the socket, but puckering back together. The old panda was not only surprised by how fast it was healing, but how well. It seemed that you were actually growing your whole eye back. With a heavy sigh, you told us the details of your curse. There was a sad smile on your face as you lamented over your lost father.

That's when I felt something stirring in my gut. I tried to hold this feeling down, as I've done to countless emotions before. It danced out of my grasp, up through my intestines, and settled softly in my heart. I longed to hold the boy in front of me. Bookman was staring at me like I'd grown eight heads, but I didn't care. From the depths of my long- discarded soul, I felt the first prick of undying affection.

I felt love.

I nursed my raw, untouched heart as it went against unbeatable odds. We all had a one way ticket to hell; doomed to fight, until we couldn't anymore. We almost died so many times, that I'd lost count. It started to get harder and harder to bring you back. During the last battle, I did almost half of the damage to you myself. I've carried you over a snow covered mountain, dragged you across several battlefields, and set myself on fire for you.

And yet…

Words could never explain how I've felt about you. There is a feeling that pools in my stomach. It makes my throat dry and my knees buckle. It makes my eyes water and my teeth grind. It makes absolutely no sense. I flipped on my side to face you. The moonlight kept drowning your colors out, as my mind kept smothering my heart. Bookmen had no need for such a thing, but I did.

Instead of just surviving, I was living. I was fighting to protect my only reason to fight. I was in love with an angel wearing human skin, and a demon's curse. You were so fragile, as if you'd evaporate at my touch. I wanted to grasp at the vapors, and whisper my adoration.

I watched your eyelids flutter, as my own filled with water. Your mouth flickered up as you sighed my name in your sleep. The tiny hope in my heart soared out of my mouth as I whispered yours back. Your eyes opened to reveal brushed steel. Slowly, I reached across the span of our beds to grasp your hand. I could hear your breath hitch in your throat. My tongue was dead weight as I laid in awe of your beauty.

Quietly, I managed to whisper my confession to you. You held my hand a little tighter, but did not move. Fearing rejection, I dropped my gaze to the floor. Before I could protest, your weight was laid out beside me in my bed. Delicately, you guided my chin upwards. You asked me to repeat what I'd just said. Mustering up what little courage I had left, I looked you dead in the eye.

"I love you."

You fell back, giggling at my seriousness. Sitting upright once more, you held my face with both hands. Gracefully, you closed the distance between our lips. Opening my eyes to meet your celestial ones, you whispered against my lips.

"I love you too."

I smirked at you as he glowed in the moonlight. There was only one thing left to say as I pulled him down, whispering huskily in his ear.

"Strike."


End file.
